Defying Gravity
by KatieBees
Summary: A wild goose-chase has led Charlie to Romania. She was here on a mission - to find her best friend, who'd disappeared without a trace nearly three years ago. However, her plans get thrown for a loop when a mysterious man moves in next door. Who is he? And why does she feel like there is more to him than meets the eye? Bucky/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned Captain America and his gang of misfits, I don't. All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. Anyone else is a creation from the depths of my imagination.**

 **AN: After watching Captain America: Civil War, my muse drifted to this fandom and wouldn't leave me alone until I had something written down. Ouala! Ideas. This is an OC/Bucky story which begins sometime in the three years between Winter Soldier and Civil War.**

 **To the readers of The Long Way Down, don't worry! I'm still working on the next chapter, hopefully you can enjoy this in the meantime.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

The building was a bust. Just like the rest.

Squinting into the dark space before her, green eyes following the beam of her flashlight as she flicked it around the large room. Nothing. Just another dusty, empty room.

Shoving down the frustration that threatened to creep into her thoughts, she reached up to adjust the dark bandana that covered the lower half of her face, reminding herself that despite another empty room, she still needed to check out the rest of the building before calling it a night.

And honestly, what had she expected? Hydra had always done an excellent job at covering their tracks, even before SHIELD fell. Hell, they'd been hiding in plain sight for decades and no one had been the wiser. Why would this be any different?

 _On to the next._ She sighed, stepping back out into the eerily quiet hallway. It was clear that the building hadn't been in use for quite awhile - the air smelt stale and the paint on the concrete walls had started bubbling and flaking off from the damp. Even so, she kept her footsteps light as she crept along, keeping an ear out for any unwanted company. Just because the building hadn't been used in years didn't mean that the local cops would welcome her break-in.

Stepping into the next room, she nearly wrote it off after a quick glance. Small and empty. Looked like it must have been used as a storage closet. However, when she turned to leave, the light from her flashlight landed on a panel on the wall at the back of the room.

Pausing, she eyed the back wall. Something about it was off.

With a frown, she stepped towards it, wondering what exactly had caught her attention.

Aiming her flashlight towards the floor, she noted the scratches on the cement floor, which told her that something - probably shelving - used to stand along the back wall, but had been taken away at some point. It was clear it had been moved quite often.

 _Bingo._ She thought, reaching up to run her gloved fingers along the edge, feeling for anything that might trigger an opening, anything that would tell her it was anything more than a wall panel.

It would have been annoying if it was just an entrance to the ventilation ducting. But when her finger caught on a tab along the side, she leaned forward excitedly to peer at it. She'd thought correct, there was a latch!

Pushing it down, she was momentarily surprised at the ease at which it moved. After all, it had been at least a couple of years since anyone had been through here. She shrugged it off. It worked in her favour.

Feeling the panel shift as she dug her fingers into the gap, she reached across and grasped the far edge with her other hand and _pulled_.

The whole front of the panel slid out of the wall and into her hands, the cover feeling like little more than a metal sheet.

The gap behind the panel looked like it might have stored files at one time, but all that remained was piles of ashes. It was clear that someone had tried to burn whatever evidence they could. But as she brushed aside some of the ashes, she realized that they must have left in a rush, not having made sure that every was burnt - there were still some readable pages in the middle. _Excellent._

"See. This is what happens when you don't take the time to do things properly..." she sung quietly to herself, further dusting off the papers she could see and pulled them out.

Crouching down, she set her flashlight on its end so that it illuminated the entire room, giving her enough light to see what she was doing. Using her now spare hands, she carefully spread the sheets out on the floor, picking out the ones that were too burnt to read, and setting aside the ones that were still usable.

A beep from the earpiece in her ear momentarily distracted her and she reached up, pressing the 'Accept' button.

"Yeah?" she asked, eyes roaming over the pages on the floor, landing on different numbers and dates. Though most of the pages were singed along the edges, making it difficult to figure out what they meant.

"You find anything?" Ian's voice demanded immediately.

"Nah. Place is empty like the rest," she murmured to him.

When he gave a huge sigh, she rolled her eyes, knowing what he was about to say. "Just like I told you it would be. Like the last place, and the one before that-"

"But," she started, cutting him off before he could keep reminding her about her lack of progress.

At her interruption he quieted down, waiting for her to continue. However, she let the silence draw out, leaving him to stew for the moment, knowing that his frustration would be on the rise when she didn't immediately answer.

 _Five, four, three, two, one..._

"Charlieeeee," he finally moaned and she couldn't contain her smirk. "Come on, don't do this to me. You can't just say 'But' and then not say anything else."

"Oh, stop whining," she snapped back, although the words held no heat to them. "I found some paper work that looks pretty interesting. Most of it's burnt, but some of it's legible."

"Hydra?" he perked up, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Eyes skimming the papers on the floor, she checked for any sign of the distinctive emblem. Nothing.

"Maybe. Nothing definite, but it's a possibility. The box was hidden behind a panel in the wall," she explained, flipping it back open, eyes running down the columns of information. "And this _is_ an old hideout, so who knows."

"Anything interesting?"

"It looks like old records of some kind. Mission records maybe?" she guessed. "I mean- there're no names or anything...just reference numbers, some locations and dates. Think it could be of use?"

Ian hummed thoughtfully on the line. "Maybe. Although I won't know until I give it a more thorough look-see," he paused, and she could hear him hesitate before he continued. "Charlie," he finally said, tone soft, and she closed her eyes, clenching her jaw in response, knowing from his tone what he was about to say. It was a conversation that had come up more and more in recent months. And was not one that she was ever happy to have. "It's been three years."

"Yeah, so?" she asked mulishly and he paused again. She briefly wondered if he was going to try a different tactic this time to get her to stop looking.

He didn't.

"...We haven't seen or heard anything in three years. Don't you think if she were out there we would have caught wind of something by now?" he asked her cautiously.

"We might be looking in the wrong places." she told him bluntly, sliding her backpack off her back and unzipping it. "There are plenty of other hideouts she could be in. Besides, your last source seemed to think something was up here in Bucharest."

"Yeah…" he hesitated and took a deep breath. "But Charlie, I think after this one I'm done."

She froze, file half way into the bag. "What?" she breathed out in shock. "What do you mean 'you're done'? Just like that, you're giving up?" she demanded, anger seeping into her words.

He hurried to reassure her. "No! I mean...yeah...kind of?" he said meekly before groaning. "Look, I just think that it's time to move on. We aren't any closer to finding Lydia today, then we were three years ago. Every Hydra base we've checked is empty, and there was never much no evidence that Hydra even took her in the first place! And well...it's been three years...What the chance that she's still-"

"Don't," she snapped, cutting him off, hands clenched around the thick material of her backpack. She wanted to ignore the painful truth behind his words, but she knew he was right. They had been looking for so long for three years and were still empty handed.

"I know you don't want to give up," he said softly. "But... maybe it's time? Lydia. She wouldn't want you to waste your life like this."

Carefully stuffing the papers into her back, she angrily sat back on her heels, an angry retort on her lip when she froze, eyeing the door. Tilting her head to the side, she listened intently. At first she didn't hear anything, but then there was a ' _swish'_ of movement, the sound of someone moving hit her ears, coming from outside the room, back in the hallway.

Heart suddenly racing, she quietly cursed that the dim light of her flashlight didn't provide any help as she stared out into the pitch black on the other side of the doorway.

 _Stay calm. It could be anything. These old building are full of rats. And three years of abandonment is plenty of time for squatters to move in._

She kept her movement's calm, finishing zipping up her backpack and sliding it onto her back, all the while keeping a casual eye on the empty doorway, the earlier conversation forgotten entirely.

"Mac," she said as she pushed herself to her feet, addressing Ian by an old nickname that her and Lydia had given them back during training. "Look, I understand what you're saying but I think I have everything I need."

"Mac?" Ian replied in her ear, sounding entirely perplexed at the change in her tone. "You haven't called me that in years. Not since - Oh. Shit. You think there someone there with you?"

"It's possible," she replied calmly, picking up the flashlight and giving the room a quick flash, as if to see if there was anything else of interest, but hoping that the change in lighting would light up the space outside the door so she could see.

No luck.

The more she stood around and thought about it, the more she was convinced there was someone else in here with her. And the more she was convinced they were standing just out in the hallway waiting for her.

"Shit," Ian repeated. "You have a gun on you?"

She couldn't help it. She snorted. "What do you think?" she said, even as she reached behind her and pulled her 9mm handgun out of her waistband, where she'd hidden it under her jacket. Flipping off the safety, she held the gun comfortably in front of her.

"Right. Right. Sorry, stupid question," Ian huffed. "Since I know you are going to hang-up on me any second, I want you to promise me that you'll phone me as soon as you get back to your apartment. Okay?" he asked, sounding worried.

"As always," she agreed, a wry smile crossing her face. He worried too much.

"And Charlie," he said seriously, his tone making her pause. "You're in an ex-Hydra base. It might not just be you scouting out the area. If you need to use it, then do it."

"I'm not going to use it, Mac," she told him firmly.

"I know you don't want to. But if it comes down to it. Protect yourself."

"If it comes down to it, I'll just shoot and run," she grumbled lowly, before speaking up. "I promise I'll be careful Mac. I'll give you a call as soon as I can."

He sighed. "Alright. Be careful, Charlie."

"Always am," she replied, and with a push of a button, she was alone.

Gun held steadily in one hand, she braced her other hand holding the flashlight across the opposite forearm, aiming with both in the same direction. For a moment she stood facing the doorway, willing herself to step forwards into the dark. For a few heartbeats she held herself perfectly still, straining to hear anything from outside the room, but nothing came to her. Yet, while she couldn't hear anything, on an instinctual level she knew she wasn't alone in the building. There was someone else out there.

 _Now or never._ She told herself, willing her feet to move. _Come on, you've never been a coward before._

With that she stepped forward, took a breath and stepped into the hallway. She quickly pointed her handgun and flashlight down one end of the hallway before rotating to face the other way, feeling relieved that there was no one in sight.

 _Just go back the way you came._ With a quick glance into the shadow behind her, she began creeping down the hallway, the still air sending a chill down her spine as she moved. The place sure as hell hadn't felt like this when she'd arrived.

Upon her first T-crossing, she paused to peer around each corner before proceeding to the left. Heart pounding, ears straining.

 _Right up ahead, across the room, out the window. Right, across and out. Right, across and out._

The window she'd slid through earlier in the evening was in sight when things went wrong.

She'd been just about to dart across the room to her exit, when a figure darted out of the shadow her left, slapping down against her hand that held the gun.

Grunting in both surprise and pain, she dropped her gun, fingers instantly numb by the force of the blow.

Not given a second to react, a second fist followed swiftly with a heavy blow to her chest, sending her slamming into the concrete wall behind her, her flashlight skittering away across the floor.

For a second all she felt was pain. Her ribs throbbed. Her lungs screamed for oxygen. God, she couldn't _breathe!_

Stunned, she barely had a second to gasp for breath, before the shadowy figure in front of her _moved_ and she ducked to the side on instinct.

The fist that slammed into the spot she had been standing only a second before cracked the wall with ease, chunks of concrete and dust flying through the air on impact.

 _Holy fuck, that could have been your_ _ **head**_ _._

He was fast, and holy damn, he was _strong._

But he'd missed, and he was close enough to see the stubble on his chin despite the dark. So she used that to her advantage.

Lashing out with her right hand, she aimed for his throat, hoping that maybe she could at least stun him long enough to grab her gun and get the fuck out of there.

But with reflexes that should have been impossible, he casually leaned out of the way of her attack, like he'd seen it coming from a mile away. He ducked under her arm and stepped towards her all in one graceful move. Seemingly effortless. With one move, he had her boxed in with his much larger frame, pinning her to the wall with his proximity.

She could even feel the material of his jacket with her still outreached hand.

Panic flaring through her when his hand snaked up, reached for her throat.

Not taking a second to think, she _reacted._

Throwing her other hand towards his stomach, she felt the air around her react, and pushed.

The result was instantaneous.

Her attacker was suddenly no longer standing in front of her, and had flown across the room, colliding with the far wall with a small grunt, clearly taken by surprise. He hadn't expected that.

Holding her hand out in front of her, she kept him pinned to the far wall as she gasped for breath, struggling to get air into her lungs after the blow she'd taken to the chest. Her lungs were slow to recover, leaving her coughing and wheezing.

Even though she couldn't see his face in the dim lighting, she could feel the harsh glare he was sending her way. She could feel the strain of him _pushing back._

God, he was strong.

It terrified her.

She needed to get the hell out of here.

Adrenaline pumping through her, her whole body felt like it was shaking as she stepped away from the support of the wall, making sure to stay facing him as she moved. Hurrying as fast as her body would let her, she scooped up her gun, holding it firmly in hand.

His fight against her push increased exponentially the moment she touched the gun. She could see his arms shaking as they began to move as he tried to escape her grip.

She was losing control. Fast.

 _Outoutout!_

Not delaying another second, she slid the gun into her waistband and scooped up her flashlight. Shutting it off, she shoved it into her back pocket before hurrying to the wall. Leaping up, she gripped the window ledge, hauling herself up and through the partially open window.

She stumbled as she landed hard on the other side, but took off at a sprint the moment she had her feet under her, despite the protest of her lungs. She needed to get as far away from there as fast as she could.

It was only when she was more than a few blocks away from the building that she felt her control slip entirely.

But somehow she had a feeling he'd been moving long before then.

* * *

 **AN: Any thoughts? Please let me know! A review only takes a minute of your time and makes an incredible difference an author's day! And I will personally answer each and every one!**

 **Thanks so much for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned Captain America and his gang of misfits, I don't. All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. Anyone else is a creation from the depths of my imagination.**

 **Warning: Rated T for language and suggestive themes.**

 **A/N: Wow! Thank you guys so much! I can't believe the reception this story has received so far and, quite honestly, it's blown me away. So a big, BIG thankyou to everyone who reviewed, fave'd and followed! You guys rock!**

 **A quick note about following chapters. I'm not always this fast at posting the next chapter but I couldn't wait to get this one out to you guys! The next chapter might take a little longer to write (because of exams and RL, bleh). I will get it to you guys as soon as I can.**

 **Please note:**

" **Speaking English."**

" _ **Speaking Romanian."**_

 _ **Thoughts.**_

* * *

Chapter Two

Tap, tap, tap.

Groaning, Charlie pressed her face further into her pillow, praying to whichever god would hear her that whoever was knocking on her door would just _go away_.

She'd had to take extra precautions on her way home the night before, taking the long way back on the slim chance that the man from the warehouse had managed to catch her trail. The last thing she needed was for him to show up while she was getting her much needed sleep to try and finish the job.

And so she'd stumbled into her apartment at some ungodly hour, ready to sleep like the dead, only to remember the phone call she'd promised Ian. Considering the fact that he would probably show up on her doorstep in the morning out of the blue if she _didn't_ call him, she'd taken the time to let him know that she was okay. Only to regret it the moment he'd picked up, when he'd begun asking her a million questions about what had happened. It had taken another hour of for her to convince him that 'yes, there had been someone else there', 'no, she didn't get a good look at his face', 'yes, she was okay.' before he had finally let her slump into her bed to sleep.

Which had only felt like five minutes ago.

When the knocking continued, she turned her head, blearily opening her eyes to peek at the alarm clock on her bedside table.

8:05 AM

 _Goddammit._

Four hours of sleep was _not_ enough to function.

"Chalee, wake up, I know you're in there," came a muffled and heavily accented voice through the door.

Mrs Cosima. The ancient old lady with wiry, white hair that stuck out of her head in every direction, reminding Charlie of an old, wrinkly, albino porcupine. Not that she would ever tell her that.

She was also Charlie's current employer, and over the past few months had become her closest friend around. Although sometimes gruff, she was kind; when Charlie had first arrived in Bucharest with nothing but a duffle bag and list of ex-Hydra bases, Mrs. Cosima had been quick to offer her a part time job and a place to stay. She only needed to help her with chores, entering client information into the computers and cleaning out the apartments when the tenants finally moved out. The rest of the time she was free to do as she pleased.

Which gave her plenty of opportunity to continue her search through the local Hydra bases, with no one being the wiser. All any of the locals knew was that she was here as a student from an American university to study local tourist attractions for her Tourism and Linguistics Double Major. Which was the perfect excuse to snoop around the city without raising many questions.

Besides, it wasn't too far of a stretch. Before she'd joined SHIELD, she _had_ completed her linguistics degree. It was convenient knowing different languages while travelling. Mrs. Cosima enjoyed practising her english while Charlie practiced her Romanian.

Tap, tap, tap.

"Chalee," Mrs Cosima barked, trying to sound threatening and Charlie had to stop herself from smiling. It didn't quite sound as threatening when she couldn't even fully say her name properly.

"Alright, alright. I'm up!" she called back, pushing herself up, only for her breath to catch in her lungs as a sharp pain shot through the middle of her chest, the feeling reminding her of the beating she'd taken only the night before. Clearly, her ribs were bruised.

 _Ouch_. She winced, tenderly rubbing the bruise she could feel through her shirt, willing the pain away. She was betting it was a nice shade of purple. _Seriously though, that guy punched like a fucking machine. I'm lucky nothing is broken._

"Ha!" Mrs. Cosima barked victoriously, unaware of her predicament. "I knew you were in there."

"Where else would I be?" Charlie grumbled to herself, still focused on trying to take a breath properly without busting a lung. Gingerly, she shuffled herself out of bed. "Give me half hour and I'll meet you at your place," she told her through the door, referring to Mrs. Cosima's apartment, which also served as her office.

"Okay! Half hour," the old woman agreed and with that Charlie heard the soft patter of her slippered feet as she shuffled down the hallway and down the stairs to her floor.

Standing in her bedroom doorway, Charlie glanced around her small apartment, noting the piles of clothing on one of the chairs in the kitchen, as well as the small mess by the sink, and sighed, knowing she would have to spend some time cleaning up. She'd been too busy in the past week to really consider how dirty her apartment was getting. But it was definitely time to clean it up and do some laundry.

Her apartment was small, but cozy. It consisted of three main areas: the bedroom, the bathroom and the connected living/kitchen area. The kitchen area even had a small island which she used as a table and which separated the two spaces.

Stretching as best as she could, she hobbled over to the bathroom, stripping out of her pajama pants and tank top as she went, adding them to the pile on the chair.

Entering the bathroom, she winced as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The bruise the blossomed just below and between her breasts was as lovely as she expected it to be, not including the spattering of others she'd collected during the same time.

Her wrist wasn't looking any better, looking like a weird combination of red, purple and yellow around the inside. But thankfully, although bruised and swollen, at least it wasn't broken, she reminded herself as she rotated it slowly to make sure.

 _Ian would have thrown a fit if I'd told him about these._ She thought, feeling kind of sheepish at the fact. She'd left out a _few_ details here and there. _Anyways, what he doesn't know, he doesn't worry about._

Slipping off her underwear, she stepped into the shower turning the water on the water as hot as she could, enjoying the pleasant feeling of the water rinsing off the sweat and dust from the night before. She'd been too tired to clean off when she got home, an easy battle between being clean and getting an extra hour of sleep.

Lathering her hair with shampoo, her thoughts drifted back to the attacker and not for the first time she wondered if he'd been following her, or if it was just been a coincidence that they were in the same building at the same time.

 _Unlikely._ She snorted to herself. _I doubt that someone trained like that just happens upon an old Hydra base. It's more likely that he's part of whatever is left of Hydra._ Ducking her head under the water, she began to rinse out her hair. _Although he could have just been scouting out the place like I was. For all I know, he might have thought that_ _ **I**_ _was Hydra…_

Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to get a good look at his face, so recognizing him again would be nearly impossible. _Either way, let's make a point to_ _ **not**_ _run into him again. You only get lucky once._

Rinsing off, she shut off the water, grabbing a towel and patting herself dry, before wrapping the towel around herself. Quickly wringing out her hair into the shower stall (unfortunately, it didn't have a tub) before stepping out of the bathroom and into her bedroom heading to her closet.

With a quick glance out the window, she knew that it would be a bit chilly outside and so grabbed black skinny jeans and a blue long sleeved shirt. Slipping on her underwear, she stepped into her pants and tugged on her shirt. Checking herself in the mirror, she made sure that none of the bruising was visible and that her sleeve covered her wrist. The last thing she needed was people asking questions. What could she tell them? _Oh, I was trespassing in an old Hydra base, searching for my friend, who disappeared into thin air three years ago, and promptly got attacked by a super strength psycho._ She snorted. _Yeah, that would go reeeally well._

Eyes glancing over the clock on the wall, she froze when she realized that she was late.

 _Shit! Jeeze, Charlie you spend too much time daydreaming._

Slipping on her boots at the same time as she hurriedly pulled a comb through her long hair, which was sopping wet and looked much darker than her own natural brown. Frustrated with her lack of time to properly dry it, she quickly threw it up into a messy bun on the top of her head to keep it out of the way.

Grabbing her keys and a sweater, she glances around the apartment, making sure all the important stuff was secure before heading out the door, locking it behind her and hurried down the hall to the stairs, the boards creaking as she walked. Taking a couple of steps at a time, she hurried down to the second floor where Mrs. Cosima resided.

The building was quite old and run down. What had been previously beautiful wallpaper had begun peeling from the walls, the red paint on the railings flaking off after years of wear and tear. At twelve stories high, she was lucky to be on the top floor, the apartments to either side of her remaining empty for the entire time she'd lived here.

At some point in the past, the elevator had stopped working entirely, and due to the cost of repairs, Mrs. Cosima had to save the money before the work could be done. Which meant that the only way in and out of the building was down the endless spiralling staircase on one side of the building. When she'd first arrived, the building had been a thing from her nightmares - having to scale twelve flights of stairs everyday was not her idea of fun. But the longer she lived here the more she appreciated it. It kept parties interested in renting confined to the lower floors (apparently they felt the same way about stair as she had), giving her greater privacy - she had the entire floor to herself.

And she rarely had to think about working out.

Mrs. Cosima office was located on the second floor and as always the door was wide open. The old lady said it was because she was working from her home, and people were welcome to visit her during working hours. Charlie shuddered at the thought of leaving her place unlocked.

Walking through the doorway, she found Mrs. Cosima sitting at her desk in her usual spot, square glasses perched on her nose as she typed away at her computer. Luna, her white cat, was curled up in her usual spot by the table and perked up when she entered, giving her a small 'mew'.

Without looking up, the older woman pointed towards the kitchen. "Eat your toast," she said and promptly went back to typing.

Charlie brightened up, having forgotten about breakfast entirely. "Yes!" she cheered, mindful of her ribs. "Thanks Mrs. Cos! You know me so well!"

The older woman rolled her eyes in response. "Too well, it would seem."

"No such thing," she grinned in reply as she made her way over just in time for the toast to pop up. Grabbing the slice, she slathered on some marmalade before walking over to where Mrs. Cosima was sitting and peered over her shoulder. Ugh, taxes. "So what's the plan for today?" she asked, since Mrs. Cosima must have had something in mind to come and wake her up in the first place.

Pausing, the other woman turned towards her with an evil grin, before picking up the huge pile of files sitting next to her and holding them out.

Narrowing her eyes, she pointed at the pile. "If that is ten years of data entry, I might pre-emptively quit right now." She warned, slowly accepting the pile with a disgusted look on her face. Like she was picking up a bag full of worms instead of a pile of papers.

Mrs. Cos patted her hand comfortingly, giving her a mocking sympathetic look. "Then I don't have to get a new worker anytime soon. It's only five year of work."

"Hardy- har. You're absolutely hilarious." Charlie replied, rolling her eyes. "Just to let you know, the right word is 'slave', not 'worker'." She informed her pointedly, only to get swatted on the back. Grinning in response, she headed over to the desk on the far side of the room, where another laptop was set up. "Kidding, kidding."

"Brat," Mrs. Cos replied good-naturedly, before turning to face her. "Any study dates this week?" she asked, sounding curious. "You were out lots this past while," she commented slyly and not for the first time Charlie wondered if she suspected there was more to her 'studies' than she let on.

She hummed to herself. "Well, I was thinking of going to the National Museum of Art at some point, so I might head there some time this week," she told her, organizing the folders by month as the computer slowly turned on. "The Palace of Parliament was on my list as well. So one or the other," she said, thinking of a Hydra bases she could check out nearby. Her list was been getting shorter at a worrying pace.

"And any _other_ kinds of dates this week?" Mrs. Cos asked casually, pretending like she was asking about anything other than the subject of dating. Like the weather. Or _taxes._

Charlie sent her a dry look, which was purposely ignored. "No," she said flatly. For some reason, the older woman was always interested in her love life, asking if she had met any handsome young men during her studies.

Charlie would hate to inform her that the last man she'd encountered on her 'studies' had left her with bruised ribs.

 _Yeah...she might not find that nearly as amusing._

The older woman paused, peering over her glasses at her. "Chalee, at your age I was on a date everyday! And everyday was a different boy at that."

Charlie snorted in amusement, shaking her head. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"You must enjoy life! Have fun! Meet a guy or two."

"Or three." Charlie snorted in amusement.

"Or three." Mrs. Cos nodded wisely, looking like she was giving sage advice about life, and not suggesting that Charlie get a better sex life. "Believe me Chalee, it helps relieve...stress."

"Oh God, please stop. I'm not stressed," she cringed, burying her head into her arms. "Weren't you married?" she squeaked, trying to change the topic to something safer.

"Yes, I was!" the older woman stated looking proud, slapping her hand down onto the table, "We were married sixty years, me and Andrei. Sixty! But that does not mean I did not have some fun before we committed to one another."

"As a wise old woman, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be telling me the opposite! One true love, and all that crap! Not to have sex with every man I come across!" Charlie stated, loudly.

Then froze when someone cleared their throat.

As gruff as Mrs. Cos' voice could be. It sure as hell wasn't her.

It sounded like a _man_.

Someone was at the door.

 _OhGodohGodohGod_! She mentally cried to herself, slowly sinking down in her seat as she felt a blush sweep through her body from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head. She was pretty sure that she was brightest shade of red available and for that reason alone couldn't immediately bring herself to turn around to see who was standing at the door

She could only pray that he couldn't speak a lick of english and had absolutely no idea what they had been talking about.

" _Ah...Salud? I'm looking for… Mrs. Cosima?"_ he asked in Romanian and Charlie nearly died with relief, mentally sighing when she couldn't hear a trace of accent in his husky voice. Taking a slow breath, she regained control of herself as she heard Mrs. Cos get out of her chair to greet him. When she felt like she was back in control of her skin colour she slowly turned around to face the newcomer.

And paused.

Standing in the entrance was a rugged looking man. He was casually dressed, wearing jeans and a grey canvas jacket over a red shirt, duffle bag slung over one shoulder and a black backpack on the other. He was well build; broad shoulders and flat stomach showing his fitness.

But that's not what made her pause.

His strong chiseled jaw was covered in a thin layer of stubble, which she would have thought went along with the latest men's fashion except for his long hair. It was long, or at least longer than she'd seen on many guys recently, all who seem to favour shorter cuts.

However it also looked unkempt, like he hadn't had a chance to have a good shower in days, but had tried his best at hiding it under a black baseball cap.

But it was his eyes that caught her attention. Sharp blue eyes seemed to flit around the room, studying every detail intensely, as if looking for something hidden that he shouldn't miss. The only time they lingered was on the doors and the windows in the room.

And of course, he studied each of them in turn.

First his gaze landed on Mrs. Cos, who'd stepped up to greet him, a warm smile on her face. He studied her face and her posture, before his eyes drifted over to Charlie.

When he met her eyes, something seemed to flicker across his face before it quickly disappeared, becoming devoid of expression once more. But his eyes left her face, trailing over her body where she sat, and Charlie had to suppress a shiver.

It didn't feel like she was being checked out by a normal guy. It felt predatory, like she was being seized up. Like he was looking for weakness.

Then he turned back to Mrs. Cos and seemed to forget about her entirely.

 _Weird._

As goodlooking as he was, something struck her as off.

He looked familiar.

When he and Mrs. Cos began talking, she shook herself of the thought, bringing herself back to the present.

 _He probably just has one of those faces._

" _I saw an ad in a local newspaper for an apartment,"_ he said simply. _"Is the offer still standing?"_

" _Yes, yes! Of course! Is it only you? Do you know how long you will be staying?"_ Mrs. Cos asked pleasantly him in return, asking her usual questions to determine who was staying where, her hand scribbling down his information on a blank sheet of paper.

" _Just one,"_ he answer, and seemed to hesitate for a second. _"And indefinitely...if that is alright?"_

" _Not too worry, dear. I have plenty of units available at the moment,"_ Mrs. Cos reassured him. _"How about I let you check the place out and you make your final decision?"_ When he nodded in response, Mrs. Cos turned to her with a sly look in her eye. " _Chalee,"_ she called to her, and Charlie shot her a dry look in response, " _would you show…"_ At the lack of name, the older woman shot the man a questioning look.

Another hesitation. "Bucky," he supplied finally. _No last name?_

" _Would you show Bucky to his room, please?"_

Charlie instantly wondered what the old woman was planning. Mrs. Cos usually liked to show the apartments off herself, as a way to get to know who would be staying in her building and begin building a positive relationship with them.

 _What's she up to?_ Charlie wondered suspiciously.

" _Of course,"_ Charlie answered in Romanian, nodding pleasantly as she pushed herself to her feet, noting how his eyes seemed to follow her movement. Analyzing and reassessing. _"Which room would you like me to show him?"_ She asked the older woman.

The elderly lady shuffled over to her desk, opening her keys drawer with her own master key. Riffling through it, she found the one she was looking for and pulled it out. _"If you could show him appartment 123?"_

 _123?_ Charlie thought feeling momentarily puzzled. _But that's...that's right next door..._ Then realization hit. _That meddling old bat. She's trying to set me up for a date._ Charlie wanted to groan out loud in embarrassment, instead she forced a pleasant smile onto her face. _"Of course._ _If you would follow me back to the stairs, I can show you up to the apartment."_

Instead of replying, Bucky merely stepped back into the hallway, giving her space to pass. Stepping forward to follow him, she snatched the keys from Mrs. Cos, shooting her a scathing glare as she went, who looked entirely too amused at her predicament, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. When she began rocking her hips provocatively, Charlie scurried out of the room like it had caught fire.

 _Evil, perverted old woman._ She grumbled to herself. Briefly meeting the man's gaze, she nodded towards the direction of the stairs. _"This way."_ Arriving at the stairs, she began their ascent, feeling the heavy presence at her back. Unexpectedly nervous, she began telling him about some of the details of the building to fill the oppressive silence. " _Unfortunately the elevator is under repair, so the stairs are the only way up and down at the moment. I hope that won't be a problem?"_ she asked him, glancing back.

He shook his head in reply.

 _Of course he won't have problems going up and down stairs. The guy looks like he bench presses cars in his sleep…_

" _There are communal laundry rooms on the first and sixth floor. They're always locked. But the second key on the keychain will open them,"_ she continued, feeling proud of herself for being able to talk and ascend ten flights of stairs at the same time, while not sounding like she was dying for breath. _"It will also open the garbage area on the bottom floor."_

He said nothing in response.

 _Awkwaaaard. A man of few words, I guess._

And with that they continued the rest of the trip up in silence.

Arriving on her floor - or their floor now - she let released a small sigh of relief, glad she was nearly rid of the uncomfortable silence that followed her up the stairs.

Heading down the hall, she stopped at the first door to her right, Room 123.

" _This is it,"_ she told him, pulling out the corresponding keys. Showing him the two keys on the chain, she pointed to the silver one. _"Silver is for your room. The gold for laundry and garbage."_ Fiddling with the keys in her hand, she turned with intention of inserting the key into the slot, when her bruised wrist gave a painful twinge.

So she promptly dropped the keys.

She didn't have a chance to react when a gloved hand snapped forward a caught the keys midair.

Startled at the abrupt movement, she turned to look at him, finding him giving her an assessing look, eyeing her wrist with a small frown before meeting her eye and holding out the keys for her to take.

With a small grimace, she rubbed her wrist before taking the keys from him. _"Uh. Thanks. I slipped on some ice the other day,"_ she said in way of explanation, even though he hadn't asked.

Returning her attention to the door, she tried again, this time her wrist cooperated.

Turning the knob, she pushed the door open and stepped in, Bucky pausing at the doorway behind her, looking like he was examining the room the same way he'd done down in Mrs. Cosima's office. The room looked exactly like hers. Kitchen and living area attached. Small bedroom and bathroom through doors on the other side of the living room.

Standing in the living room, she pointed at the two doors, _"Bedroom and bathroom are through there,"_ pointing to the door on the other side of the kitchen, she continued. _"There is a small balcony through there. It's not much, but it's a nice view."_

After a second, Bucky slowly entered the room, looking in each of the directions she'd pointed a second before. Making his way to the bathroom, he pushed open the door and peered in before doing the same with the bedroom, which he walked into and disappeared.

Shifting on her feet, Charlie bit her lips as stood uncomfortably in the middle of the kitchen/living area, waiting to see if this quiet, mysterious stranger was going to be her new neighbour or not.

She didn't know how she felt about it.

Apparently he'd decided that the place met his expectations when he came back out of the bedroom and gave her a small nod.

Sending him a polite smile, she motioned towards the door. _"If you'd follow me, we can head back down to Mrs. Cosima's and she can talk to you about rent?"_ Doing as indicated, he followed her out the door, which she locked behind them.

Thankfully, the trip back down to the office seemed to go much quicker than it had on the way up. And as she hurried through the door, she shot Mrs. Cos an exasperated look, only receiving a smug look in response before the older woman's gaze landed on Bucky and she went into full business mode.

" _Will you be staying with us then?"_ She asked him as Charlie deposited the keys on the old woman's desk and headed towards her own.

Bucky tipped his head towards her. _"If that is alright with you."_

" _Of course! Of course! Come over here child and we'll get the paperwork out of the way. Then you can get settled in."_

Bucky moved towards the desk and Mrs. Cos slid the paperwork towards him. As he silently picked up a pen and began to fill him out the form, Charlie reached down and scratched the underneath of Luna's chin, her eyes never leaving his bent over form.

It bothered her that she still felt like she knew him from somewhere.

As he finished writing, clicking the pen off, he glanced up from under his baseball cap and blue eyes met her green. Despite the intensity of his gaze, she met it bravely, narrowing her eyes in return, before he broke her stare.

As Mrs. Cosima looked through the paperwork quickly, humming to herself, before giving a firm nod. _"Everything looks good,"_ she handed him the key, which he took careful and pocketed it. _"And if you have any questions, Charlie lives right across the hall from you. She should be able to help you with anything you need."_

 _Meddling old bat_ , she pursed her lips but gave Bucky a polite smile when he glanced at her.

Turning towards the door, he paused in the doorway. _"Thank you,"_ he said softly, before disappearing back into the hallway.

As soon as he was out of sight, the smile slid off of Charlie's face and she turned her narrowed gaze on Mrs. Cos, who gave her an innocent look.

Shrugging her shoulders, the old woman adjusted her glasses. "What? At least he's good looking. I mean, did you get a look of that ass?" She hummed with appreciation. "I bet he's good in bed."

"Oh God, Mrs. Cos! I'm not going to sleep with him." Charlie said, slamming herself back into her seat, shuffling through her files with the intention of fully ignoring her.

"Never say never, dear."

* * *

 **AN: Thanks so much for reading! Can't wait to hear your thoughts on Charlie, Mrs. Cos and Bucky!** **A review only takes a minute of your time and makes an incredible difference an author's day! And I will personally answer each and every one!** **  
**

 **Guest: So glad you liked it! Hope this chapter answers some of your questions! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned Captain America and his gang of misfits, I don't. All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. Anyone else is a creation from the depths of my imagination.**

 **AN: Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the incredible reviews, as well as all the favourites and follows! It makes me so happy to know that you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! :)**

 **Warning: Rated T for language and suggestive themes.**

 **Please note: "Speaking English."** ** _"Speaking Romanian." Thoughts._**

* * *

Chapter Three

Charlie was pretty sure her new neighbour was dead.

It had been almost two weeks since he'd first moved in across the hall, and during that time, she hadn't seen him a single time. Not. Even. Once. In fact, there'd been so little activity on her floor that she almost felt like she was still the only one living there. Which was nice, if a little odd. And maybe a little creepy.

She _knew_ the floorboards outside her door squeaked. They'd done so since the very first day she'd moved in. And it's not like he could avoid it. If he wanted to leave the floor, he would have to walk over them to get to the stairs. It was the only way out of the building. But as days turned into weeks, she realized that she hadn't heard them squeak a single time.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the quiet. She did. She'd enjoyed the benefits of being the only person living on her floor for a long time. But she was beginning to think that it was a little _too_ quiet.

Who's to say that 'Bucky' hadn't slipped in the shower, cracked his head open in the tub and died all alone in his bathtub?

 _Or maybe heart attack?_ She thought to herself, staring blearily at her screen, having given up entering anything nearly twenty minutes beforehand. _Although I seriously doubt it, not with his physique. Maybe he'd just moved out and hadn't told anyone?_

When she'd mentioned it to Mrs. Cosima, the older woman had told her that she'd seen him come and go from the building a couple of times, but that had been mostly throughout the first couple of days.

Charlie wasn't so sure.

She was beginning to wonder if she should knock on his door at some point and make sure he was _alive_. That's what a good neighbour would do, right?

 _But...what if he answered?_ The thought made her anxious. _What if he_ _ **didn't**_ _answer? Then you might have to go into his place….And then you might find a dead hot guy….in his bathtub...naked. Oh god._ When her mind began to come up with a number of images of what he might look like under all those clothes, she threw herself backwards into her chair with a groan.

 _You're mind has clearly been exposed to the thoughts of another dirty mind._ Narrowing her eyes, she shot the unsuspecting Mrs. Cos a nasty look before focusing on the screen of numbers in front of her.

Tapping her heel repeatedly for another five minutes, her patience finally snapped and she shoved herself almost violently out of the chair. "That's it. I'm going to go down to the market, I've got some things to get. If I sit here another minute, I'm going to go crazy," she stated.

Mrs. Cos sighed. "Thank God. I thought I was going to have to throw you out! I pay you to work, not daydream," she grumbled, flapping a hand towards the door. "Go. Get out of here."

Charlie rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the twitch of her lips. "Yes Ma'am!" she said, sliding on her jacket before reaching under her desk to grab her purse. "Is there anything you need while I'm out?" she inquired, since part of her day job _was_ to make sure the elderly woman had everything she needed.

"Hmm," the older woman drummed her fingers on her lips with a finger, eyeing the kitchen door, (her apartment was much bigger than Charlie's own). "Just a batch eggs, if you could?"

"Of course," Charlie nodded, throwing her purse around her shoulders and heading for the door. "I might not be back until later."

Mrs. Cos. waved her away, swiveling around the face her, adjusting her glasses. "It's okay. I'm meeting with the electrician in the afternoon...maybe get this damn elevator fixed. You can have the afternoon to yourself." Charlie nearly cheered, though the old woman continues before her could. "However, I expect you to actually get some work done tomorrow."

Charlie cringed, sending her a sheepish smile. "I know, I know. Sorry."

She received an exasperated shake of the head in response. "Bah. Young people. Living with their heads in the clouds. Go on, get out of here, _I_ actually have work to be done," she pointed to the door and Charlie was only happy to oblige, leaving with a small wave of her fingers.

* * *

Fortunately, the market was fairly quiet today, so it didn't take her long to grab everything she came for. She just needed to make one last stop at the fruit stand before she could head home back to the apartment. Skimming the rows of fresh fruits, she grabbed a bag of apples before heading over to pay, aware of the dark eyes watching her from the other end of the stall.

Lucas, the stall owner's son, had developed a small infatuation with her from the moment she'd first walked into the market. Not in a creepy way, but he definitely went out of his way to be friendly to her and would often serve her before someone else.

Not that she minded. It wasn't like she had many friends in the area, and it was nice to talk to someone who was close to her own age. He was always interested in what she had to say, always making a point of asking her about her school research and where she was planning to check out next.

And...It didn't help that he was really good looking. Short, dark hair, dark almond eyes and cute dimples that appeared on his cheeks whenever he smiled. Which he did often. Usually at her.

Glancing up she met his eyes, sending him a small smile and a wave, which he returned with cheeky grin of his own, which made her heart warm. He was always excited to see her. Finishing tending to the customer he was helping, he skipped over to where she was standing and leaned on the back of the fruit table towards her.

"Charlie!" he said warmly in greeting. _"How are you today? Picking up some vegetables for Mrs. Cosima?"_

 _"_ _I'm good, Lucas,"_ She replied in Romanian, before shaking her head, handing him the coins to pay for the apples. _"And no. Not today. Fortunately, Mrs. Cos only needed eggs this time... I'm actually here to buy some fruit for myself."_

His face changed to one of over-the-top shock and he clutched the money to his chest. _"To buy some fruit? You wound me so, my dear Charlie. I thought you'd come by to say hello to little, old me,"_ he shook his head sadly, like he couldn't believe the words he was hearing.

Charlie grinned at his acting. _"Old, maybe. Dramatic, definitely. Little, not so much,"_ she nodded, making a point of looking up at him. There was nothing little about the guy. Tall with muscular broad shoulders did not constitute as _little_ in her book.

He threw his head back in a good natured laugh, before wiggling his eyebrows at her. _"Fair enough. So tell me, will you be visiting any more attractions any time soon?"_ he asked, referring to 'student' cover. _"You promised me pictures last time, and I have yet to see them!"_ He added, wagging a finger at her.

As part of her cover, Charlie did make a point of actually visiting tourist attractions in the area and seeing that photography was something that she'd always enjoyed, she would take scenic shots of local attractions.

She sent him a sheepish grin. _"I know. Sorry. I'll try to bring my camera by next time to show you."_

 _"_ _Uh, you know…"_ he began, looking a little more serious than before. _"If you wanted, I could... show you around town?"_ He suggested, looking a little uncomfortable but determined in his question. _"So, you know...you could get a local's point of view on Bucharest? I know some pretty interesting places to go to. And, um, maybe we could go out for dinner or drinks afterwards?"_

Charlie was surprised at his question. Although he had always been flirty with her, it had never been more than just teasing from across the stall. But here he was, asking her to go out on a...date?

 _Maybe Mrs. Cos is right. I should have some fun every once in awhile. It doesn't have to be serious, just fun between friends. A few drinks never hurt anyone anyways._

At her hesitation, his expression fell and he shifted awkwardly. _"Uh. Nevermind, you know if you're too busy, I understand,"_ he said with a sad smile, scratching the back of his neck.

 _"_ _I'm busy,"_ she blurted out, immediately wanting to kick herself when he cringed. _"This week. But….I'm free...next week, if you want to go then? As friends?"_ she suggested, making sure to add the 'as friends' part. She didn't want him to get the idea that this could lead to anything long term.

 _Not when you could be out of here in a month._

He brightened in response, a boyish expression of delight crossing his face. _"Of course. Good. And as friends! Of course, whenever you are available. Is there any day that works best for you?"_ He seemed determined to ignore his babbling in favour of setting a date.

Charlie had to hide her smile at his enthusiasm. _"Let's say Friday? I'll probably be working during the day, but afterwards works well for me."_

He grinned and nodded. _"Perfect. Friday it is. I can meet you outside your building around six?"_

 _"_ _Six on Friday sounds great,"_ she agreed, before glancing at her watch. _"Crap. I should go though. Mrs. Cos is probably beginning to wonder when all her eggs are."_

 _"_ _Of course."_ He replied easily. _"I'll let you get back to shopping."_

 _"_ _Thanks Lucas,"_ she said, giving him a soft smile in response, pushing her hair behind her ear. _"And I'll see you soon?"_

He nodded and smiled. _"See you soon, Charlie."_

Heading out of the marketplace, she couldn't help the smile that stayed on her face as she began making her way back to the apartment building, which was only a couple of blocks away. Weaving through the crowds, she was grateful when the building came in sight. Arms loaded with three overstuffed grocery bags, she realized that she'd bought way more than planned.

Entering the building, she headed up to Mrs. Cos' office, stealthily slipping through the front door and heading to the kitchen. When she heard voices coming from the office, she realized that the electrician the older woman had been waiting for must have shown up. Quickly peering into the office, she met the old woman's gaze over the man's shoulder, and sent her a smile, which Mrs. Cos returned with an appreciative nod before returning to her conversation.

Charlie left her to it and began the long trek up the stairs to her own place, regretting having bought so much. Sighing, she realized that she couldn't wait for the elevator to be fixed, if only to save her the effort of lugging up pounds of groceries all the time.

 _Can't say that it doesn't help keep you fit though..._

She was nearly halfway up the long flights of stairs that she realized that she was going to have a problem - the bottom of one of her bags was ripping.

 _Dammit!_ She thought, hurrying up as fast as she could. Maybe the bag would hold long enough to make it-

Or not.

She hadn't even made it to the next flight of steps when the bag ripped open and groceries scattered everywhere. The bag of apples and the box of cereal landed on the next step up, easily within reach. However, it was the cans of soup that skittered down the stairs behind her that were the issue.

"Fuck," she groaned, holding the straps of the now empty bag in her hand. She could only watch as one of the apples rolled across the step and under the railing, plummeting down at least six floors to certain death, half expecting a howl of pain from some poor sod that happened to be standing in precisely the wrong place at the wrong time. Fortunately, no sounds of distress greeted her, and she sighed again, but couldn't quite bring herself to feel relief.

 _Typical... just typical._

Taking a deep breath, she blew it out in frustration, setting the two other bags on the next step up and rolled her shoulders, pushing a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear. Leaning down, she began to gather some of the nearby items, trying to somehow stuff them in the top of the other bags.

"You dropped this," a husky voice said suddenly from behind her.

"Holy shit!" she yelped, heart leaping into her throat as she whirled around, instinctively crouching down defensively on the uneven stairs, fist raised before her, one of the apples still clutched tightly in her hand.

And came face to face with Bucky, her new neighbour.

He stood several steps below her, dressed very much the same as the first time she'd seen him back in the office, his black backpack still strapped safely to his back. Sharp blue eyes watched her from beneath his ever-present baseball cap. Although when his gaze flickered to the apple in her hand, she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch in what could only have been amusement.

Then she realized he was patiently holding out two of the cans that had disappeared down the stairs behind her, waiting for her to take them.

Wanting to groan at the idea that he had caught her so unprepared, she tried to calm her racing heart, forcing herself to relax and lower her hands, glad that she'd resisted punching him in the face with the apple the moment she'd turned around.

Yeah…that would have been embarrassing.

She sighed.

"You...need a bell or something," she stated, flapping a hand out towards him. Then cringed. _Hello foot. Meet mouth._ Why did she always seem to sound like an idiot around guys? Wanting to roll her eyes at her own predicament, she reached out to take the cans from his waiting hand when she froze, realizing something else.

 _Did he just…_

"Wait, did you just speak English?" she asked him, frowning down at him, distinctly remembering him speaking fluent Romanian when he'd first arrived.

 _If he knew English and had understood the whole time..._ she felt her face warming at the thought. With that realization, she threw her head back with a groan, covering her face with both hands. "Oh my God, you speak English!" she moaned pathetically into her hands, before peering at him through her fingers. "You could have at least said so," she whined.

When she didn't receive an answer in response, only a slight twitch of an eyebrow (he either looked amused or confused...she didn't quite know which).

 _He's probably beginning to regret accepting the place next door..._

With another sigh, she narrowed her eyes at him, lowering her hands and reached out, snatching the cans of soup he'd patiently been holding out for her, hoping that he didn't notice the red tinge to her face.

"Look. Do us both a favour?" she rambled on as she turned around to viciously shove the items into the bags. "Just...forget whatever you heard when you first arrived?" she nearly begged, hefting the bags up precariously into her arms. "Mrs Cos is wonderful and all, but she has a big freaking mouth sometimes... _and_ an interesting sense of humour," she informed him, before glancing back down at him.

 _Yep, he's still staring at you like you've lost your mind._

Although something about his expression had softened, and his lips twitched into what could have been called a ghost of a smile, he tilted his head a fraction to the side and shrugged calmly. "I didn't hear a word," he told her almost innocently, with that pleasant voice of his. Which, she realized, didn't have a trace of an accent either.

 _Perfect English and Romanian..._ She filed the thought away for later. People usually had a trace of an accent either one way or another.

Ignoring the thought, she coughed a small laugh, shooting him grin. "See? I like you already! Just keep doing that whenever you hear Mrs. Cos's conversations and you'll be able to keep your virgin ears," she informed him pleasantly, turning to continue the awkward trek up the rest of the stairs, grinning to herself when she heard what could only have been a small huff of laughter behind her.

She hadn't taken more than a few steps before he called up to her.

"Would you... like a hand?" he inquired, sounding nearly hesitant in his offer to help.

Pausing, she frowned as she turned back to him, seeing that he hadn't moved a muscle from the step that he'd been standing on. Glancing up the stairwell, she noticed that she was still only halfway to their floor and that it would just her luck if one of the _other_ bags ripped open.

"Uh...sure?" she replied uncertainly, noting his hesitation, before trying to reassure him. "Of course, only if you really want to! It's not too far - I really don't mind carrying them up my..." her comment died on her lips when he easily strode up the few steps towards her and held out a gloved hand expectantly.

"I don't mind at all," he informed her, this time more firmly, his eyes meeting her own.

"Thanks," she gave him a small smile, handing over one of the overstuffed bags, which he took carefully in arm, before tilting his chin up the stairs, indicating for her to go up ahead of him.

Making her way up more easily now that the load in her arms was lighter, she struck up a conversation before the silence could get uncomfortable.

"So," she began. "I have to say, I'm impressed. You're Romanian _and_ English are extremely good...I actually can't even begin to guess which is your native tongue?" she half asked, glancing back at him questioningly. From this angle, she was unable to see his eyes under the cap, but she could see the stubble covered bottom half of his face.

She _did_ see him lick his lips before answering.

"English," he told her simply, shifting the bag so it rested more comfortably in his arms.

"Wow, I'm impressed." she repeated, shaking her head with a small smile. "Your Romanian is fantastic. I have to say I'm a _little_ jealous."

At her strange comment, he glanced up looking puzzled, briefly meeting her eyes before she turned back around to make sure she didn't make a fool of herself by tripping _up_ the stairs. Would be just her luck.

"I'm a linguistics student," she informed him, telling him the same story she told everyone else of why she was in Romania. "I'm actually here to study some of the local tourist attractions. Well that, _and_ improve my Romanian," she commented dryly. "You should have heard me when I first arrived...it was _awful_. Mrs. Cos wouldn't even let me speak to customers for the longest time. Said it was too embarrassing."

"Your Romanian is very good," he commented.

She laughed, then grimaced. " _Now_ it is. Believe me, it was bad. Really bad."

"How long have you been here?"

"Hmm, almost three months now? More or less anyways," she answered with a small shrug as they finally stepped out onto their landing, passing his door and heading towards her own. Reaching into her jacket, she jingled the keys out of her pocket, as Bucky came to stand beside her. "So, what brought you to Bucharest? Are you a local guy or something?" she asked curiously, sliding the keys into the lock and giving them a twist.

When her question was met with silence, she glanced back at him questioningly, immediately seeing the tension in his shoulders and the twitch in his jaw as he avoided her gaze. Something about the question had struck a nerve.

"Oh. I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, fully turning to face him. "I didn't mean to pry. Sometimes I ramble...you don't have to answer or anything," she told him with a shake of her head, shifting the bag from one arm to another, leaning forward to try and meet his gaze, which had wondered off back down the hallway.

He gave a small sigh, his gaze drifting back to meet her own - and she noted the beautiful shade of blue his eyes were from this close. "No. It's...alright. I'm just visiting," he told her. "I used to...live here...years ago," he offered.

"Ah. I see. Is it nice to be back?" she asked him, feeling a little curious about the man who lived across the hall from her, despite him clearly not wanting to talk about it.

He paused, gaze far away. "I don't know."

The words were uncertain, some other meaning hidden beneath them that Charlie couldn't quite place. Instead of pursuing the obviously uncomfortable topic, she offered him a small smile instead, before turning and pushing the door open with her foot. Stepping into the dim room, she reached along the wall and flipped the lights on and as she did so the sleeve of her jacket pulled up, revealing the lingering bruise from her encounter at the Hydra base. Although nowhere near as vibrant as it had been during the first few days, the skin remained an unattractive mottle of yellows and greens.

The bruise seemed to catch Bucky's attention, and he tilted his head to get a better look at it.

"How's your wrist?" he inquired.

Kicking off her shoes, she glanced down at it as she moved further into the apartment, waving him in. "It's healing up well," she informed him. "Just a minor sprain. Oh! Come on in," she said, seeing him hesitate at the doorway. When he took a slow step forward and glanced down at his own boots, she waved him off. "Don't worry about your shoes. I've got plenty of cleaning to do around here anyway," she grumbled to herself, eyeing her perpetually dirty apartment.

As he cautiously stepped into the apartment, he did his normal cursory look around, lingering on her small TV in one corner, as well as on the only small picture she had hanging on the wall. A picture of her, Lydia and Ian, all smiling goofily into the camera, cloaked in their graduation gowns.

"They're old friends of mine," she told him, smiling softly as she eyed the photo. It had been the day they'd all graduated from university. They'd been naive and happy back then, ready to take on the world, completely unaware that they were being scouted by SHIELD to join the Academy.

"I thought you said you were still studying?" he questioned softly, but she felt like there was something more pointed to his question, like he was calling her out her story.

 _Definitely not stupid, this one._

"I am. That was when I graduated with my Bachelor's degree a couple of years ago. Now I'm taking my Masters," she explained before rolling her eyes, heading over to the counter and depositing her bag on top. "I kinda wish I'd decided to just take a job from the get-go, instead of throwing myself back into school. It honestly never ends."

He just made a noncommittal sound in response.

Realizing that he was still holding the other bag, she moved towards him, clearing her throat. "Here I can take those from you," she offered, holding out her arms.

He nodded, stepping towards her and passing them off, before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, glancing around the apartment curiously.

Heading to the counter, she deposited the bag on top of it, before turning back to face him. "Did you want anything to drink or maybe some chocolate chip cookies?" she asked him, "I baked a batch yesterday, so they should still be fresh if you wanted to take some with you?"

When he didn't respond, she frowned, eyeing his back. He was looking down at her coffee table, which had a bunch of books and magazines splayed out next to her laptop. His back was rigid with a tension that hadn't been there before, his shoulders hunched almost defensively.

Slowly making her way towards him, she peered around him to see what had caused him to react in such a way. Glancing up at his face, she found his jaw clenched tightly, eyes narrowed almost glaring, but clearly not quite focused on whatever he was staring at.

She followed his gaze.

He was gazing at the one of her history books about America's involvement in World War 2. The cover showed a black and white photo of Captain America giving a speech to a group of soldiers clustered around him, uniform's muddy and shoulders sagging in exhaustion. But there was nothing that could hide the expressions of awe and victory on their faces as they stared back at their hero.

Concerned, she frowned back up at his face, tentatively reaching out a hand. "Hey, are you okay-"

She'd barely brushed the material of his jacket when his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist, grip painful, threateningly, his eyes narrowing down at her.

Inhaling sharply, she froze, eyeing him warily, fleetingly glad he'd grabbed her good wrist instead of her bruised one. Although he'd reacted to her touch, she had the distinct feeling that he wasn't reacting to _her_. His gaze was still distant, unfocused. Sweat had broken out on the side of his face. Something about it felt oddly familiar. She'd seen symptoms like these before.

A memory from when she was still a student at the SHIELD Academy drifted back to her.

As a trainee, part of their early training had been to take psychology classes. They'd studied personality types, emotions and behaviour. As some of them were soon-to-be field agent, knowing how to deal with stress and trauma was a beneficial skill to have - and that included how to recognize and assess when other agents around them were suffering from PTSD.

 _Difficulty sleeping, nightmares, vivid memories and flashbacks while awake...But what triggered it?_ she wondered, remembering some of the symptoms, her gaze flickering down to the book cover once again.

Careful not to startle him, Charlie tried to keep perfectly still, forcing herself to relax her stance and her shoulders, trying to make herself as small as nonthreatening as possible, hoping that he would snap out of it if she gave him a moment to do so.

But after a few minutes of making no sign of doing _anything_ , she decided to try something else.

Taking a slow breath before, she called out tentatively, keeping her voice calm and even. "Bucky?"

At the sound of his name he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he'd been in. His eyes refocused and began darting around the room, looking increasingly alarmed, as if he'd forgotten where he was and what he was doing. When his gaze landed on her, he froze, before trailing down to where he was tightly gripping her wrist, before dropping it like it had caught fire.

When he stumbled a few steps away from her, she kept perfectly still, raising her arms slowly, palms out, trying to show she meant no harm. "Hey. It's okay. You're okay," she told him, keeping her tone calm and soothing.

"I-I…" he tried to say, but his breathing seemed to be picking up speed, coming in short gasps for air, eyes still locked on hers.

"You're okay," she repeated soothingly.

Blinking rapidly, he looked down at his hand, the one that had grabbed her, and stared at it like he couldn't believe it was his own.

After a long, tense silence he spoke.

"I-I'm sorry, I...have to go," he stuttered out in a hurry as he slid around her, eyes trained on the floor as he headed for the still open door and dashed out into the dim hallway.

Blinking blankly at the spot he'd stood only seconds before, Charlie heard his door open and close with a click, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

With a sigh, she lowered her arms.

"Thanks for the help, I guess," she commented to her now empty apartment, wondering how her day had taken such a weird turn.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks so much for reading! What did you think of Charlie, Lucas and, of course, Bucky?**

 **As always, please remember that a review only takes a couple of seconds of your time, but makes an incredible difference to a writer! I read and reply to everyone (even Guests), so don't be shy! :)**

 **Guest Replies:**

 **Ace:** Thanks so much for your review! I'm really glad you are enjoying this story! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


End file.
